When I was eight or nine years old, I wrote my first poem.

My mother read the little poem and began to cry. "Buddy, you didn't really write this beautiful, beautiful poem!" Shyly, I said that I had. My mother poured out her welcome praise. Why, this poem was nothing short of genius!

What time will Father be home?" I asked. I could hardly wait to show him what I had accomplished. My mother said she hoped he would be home around 7. I spent the best part of that afternoon preparing for his arrival. First, I wrote the poem out in my finest handwriting. Then I used colored pens to draw a border around it. Then I confidently placed it right on my father's plate on the dining table. But my father did not return at 7, Seven-fifteen, Seven-thirty. My father had begun his motion-picture career as a writer. He would be able to appreciate my poem even more than my mother.

    It was almost 8 o'clock when my father burst in. He was an hour late, but he could not sit down. I can see him now, a big Havana cigar in one hand, the rapidly disappearing drink in the other, calling down bitter words on his employees.

    Suddenly, he paused and glared at his plate. There was a silence. He was reaching for my poem. I lowered my head and stared down into my plate.

"What is this?" I heard him say.

"Ben, a wonderful thing has happened," my mother said. "Buddy has written his first poem. And it's beautiful, absolutely amazing".

"If you don't mind, I'd like to decide that for myself," Father said.

I kept my face lowered to my plate. It was only 10 lines long. But it seemed to take hours. I remember wondering why it was taking so long. I could hear him dropping the poem back on the table again. Now was the moment of decision.

"I think it's bad," my father said.

    I couldn't look up. My eyes were getting wet.

"Ben, sometimes I don't understand you," my mother was saying. "This is just a little boy. You're not in your studio now. These are the first lines of poetry he's ever written. He need encouragement."

"I don't know why," my father held his ground. "Isn't there enough bad poetry in the world already? No law says Buddy has to become a poet."

    I couldn't stand it another second. I ran from the dining room, threw myself on the bed and cried.

    That may have been the end of the anecdote(轶事) — but not of its significance for me.

    A few years later I took a second look at that first poem, and unwillingly I had to agree with my father's tough judgment. It was a pretty bad poem. After a while, I worked up the courage to show him something new, a short story. My father thought it was overwritten but not hopeless. I was learning to rewrite. And my mother was learning that she could disapprove of me without ruining me. You might say we were all learning. I was going on 12.

As I worked my way into other books and plays and films, it became clearer and clearer to me how fortunate I had been to have had a mother who said, "Buddy, it's wonderful!" and a father who shook his head no and drove me to tears with his, "I think it's bad." In fact all of us in life need that mother force, the loving force from which all creation flows; and yet the mother force alone is incomplete, even misleading, finally damaging, without the father force to caution, "Watch. Listen. Review. Improve." Between the two poles of affirmation (肯定) and doubt, both in the name of love, I try to follow my true course.

    We walked in so quietly that the nurse at the desk didn't even lift her eyes from the book. Mum pointed at a big chair by the door and I knew she wanted me to sit down. Then, Mum took off her hat and coat and gave them to me to hold. She walked quietly to the small room by the lift and took out a wet mop. She pushed the mop past the desk and as the nurse looked up, Mum nodded and said, “Very dirty floors.” The nurse answered. She looked at Mum strangely and said, “But aren't you working late?”

    Mum just pushed harder, each swipe of the mop taking her farther and farther down the hall. I watched until she was out of sight and the nurse had turned back to writing in the big book. After a long time Mum came back. Her eyes were shining.

She quickly put the mop back and took my hand. As we turned to go out of the door, Mum bowed politely to the nurse and said, “Thank you.”

    Outside, Mum told me, “Grandma is fine. No fever.”

    “You saw her, Mum?”

    “Of course. I told her about the hospital rules, and she will not expect us until tomorrow. Dad will stop worrying as well. It's a fine hospital. But such floors! A mop is not good. You need a brush.”

    Brian Greene, a professor of physics and mathematics at Columbia University, has created an online science education platform. He tries to "build a bridge" with things you know about, and then "bring you across that bridge to the strange place of modern physics."

    Recently I had a chance to ask Greene about wormholes (a hole which some scientists think might exist, connecting parts of space and time that are not usually connected), time travel and other mysteries of the universe. I asked him a million-dollar question: What if I went through a wormhole and prevented my parents from meeting? "Most of us believe that the universe makes sense," Greene said. Although there are several interesting theories about time travel, he added, the laws of physics would probably prevent something so illogical from taking place. The good news is that the time paradox（悖论） is open for future physicists to solve.

    When asked how physics could become more exciting for kids, Greene said that books by Stephen Weinberg, Leonard Susskind, and other physicists, "make it a great time for people who want to learn about big ideas but aren't yet ready, perhaps, to learn math."

    When I pointed out that some students still might find physics boring, Greene said that the key is to teach them about things that are strange. "The basic stuff is important," Greene said. "But I think it's really important to also describe the more modern ideas, things like black holes and the Big Bang. If kids have those ideas in mind, then at least some of them will be excited to learn all the details．"

    Greene has followed Albert Einstein's lead in trying to solve the mysteries of the universe. Now he wants kids to do the same. As Greene said, physics is "not just a matter of solving problems in an exam." It's about experimenting, showing an interest in strange phenomena（现象）-- and having fun!

Plastic-Eating Worms

    Humans produce more than 300 million tons of plastic every year. Almost half of that winds up in landfills(垃圾填埋场)，and up to 12 million tons pollute the oceans. So far there is no effective way to get rid of it, but a new study suggests an answer may lie in the stomachs of some hungry worms.

    Researchers in Spain and England recently found that the worms of the greater wax moth can break down polyethylene, which accounts for 40% of plastics. The team left 100 wax worms on a commercial polyethylene shopping bag for 12 hours, and the worms consumed and broke down about 92 milligrams, or almost 3% of it. To confirm that the worms' chewing alone was not responsible for the polyethylene breakdown, the researchers made some worms into paste(糊状物) and applied it to plastic films. 14 hours later the films had lost 13% of their mass--apparently broken down by enzymes(酶)from the worms' stomachs. Their findings were published in Current Biology in 2017.

    Federica Bertocchini, co-author of the study, says the worms' ability to break down their everyday food-beeswax--also allows them to break down plastic "Wax is a complex mixture, but the basic bond in polyethylene, the carbon-carbon bond, is there as well, "she explains. "The wax worm evolved a method or system to break this bond. "

    Jennifer Debruyn, a microbiologist at the University of Tennessee, who was not involved in the study, says it is not surprising that such worms can break down polyethylene. But compared with previous studies, she finds the speed of breaking down in this one exciting. The next step, DeBruyn says, will be to identify the cause of the breakdown. Is it an enzyme produced by the worm itself or by its gut microbes(肠道微生物)?

    Bertocchini agrees and hopes her team's findings might one day help employ the enzyme to break down plastics in landfills. But she expects using the chemical in some kind of industrial process-not simply "millions of worms thrown on top of the plastic."

    One time a young man, who hoped to study law, wrote to Lincoln for advice, and Lincoln replied, "If you are determined to make a lawyer of yourself, the thing is more than half done already. Always bear in mind that your own determination to succeed is more important than any other one thing."

    Lincoln knew. He had gone through it all. He had never, in his entire life, had more than a total of one year's schooling. And books？Lincoln once said he had walked to borrow every book with in fifty miles of his home. A fire was usually kept going all night in the small house and he read by the light of it.

    He walked twenty or thirty miles to hear a speaker and, returning home, he practiced his talks everywhere﹣in the fields, in the woods, before the crowds. He joined several societies and practiced speaking on the topics of the day.

    A lack of confidence always troubled him. In the presence of women he was shy and dumb. Even when he was in love with Mary Todd, he used to sit there, nervous and silent, unable to find words, listening while she did the talking. Yet that was the man who, by practice and home study, made himself into the speaker who debated with the famous speaker Douglas! That was the man who, in Gettysburg address, rose to the heights of eloquence （雄辩） that have seldom been achieved in all the human history.

    Small wonder that, speaking of his own great barriers and painful struggle, he wrote, "If you are determined to make a lawyer of yourself, the thing is more than half done already."